


The "Shaun" Solution

by Goodneighbor_Neighbor (Fan_by_Proxy)



Series: Commonwealth Canons (Yvette) [16]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Discussions of Child Birth, Discussions of Motherhood, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Goodneighbor_Neighbor
Summary: After some time and a good bit of angst, the Sole figures out what might be the best solution for little Shaun. It won't be an easy answer, but it is at least an answer.
Relationships: John Hancock & Female Sole Survivor, John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Commonwealth Canons (Yvette) [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737616
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	1. Cigarette Smoke and Rain Drops

Hancock woke up to the sound of rain and cigarette smoke. He didn’t open his eyes yet; instead, stretching and feeling out beside him to try and figure out how long it had just been him there. Yvette’s side of the bed was pretty cool to the touch, but the divot she always made in the pillow hadn’t quite sprung back up, so it hadn’t been  _ that _ long. Rolling over and feeling for the box on the nightstand, Hancock crunched a couple of Mentats to get his brain rolling--orange flavored, since it was probably breakfast time. After they landed, he managed to get his eyes open. “Morning, beautiful…what’s up?” Hancock murmured.

Yvette sat on the corner of the trunk by the window, arm and elbow on the sill as she watched the raindrops slide down the glass, cutting cleaner paths through the grime. There was a cigarette smoking away between her fingers, the ash tray nearby was about halfway full of ash and butts, and she didn’t seem to hear him.

Hancock frowned, getting up and picking his pants up and slipping them on before padding over barefoot to sit behind her on the trunk, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I said  _ morning _ , beautiful.” he repeated. Yvette leaned back against him almost immediately and held the cigarette up. Hancock let her slip it between his lips, taking a deep drag and keeping it for himself as her hands had folded on top of his arm around her. “Bad dreaming again?” he murmured. Yvette didn’t smoke, not really--she’d been a fiend like anybody else in her time, but pregnancy and rationing and then the post-nuke scarcity had had her pretty much done with it--so waking up to see she’d helped herself to at least his regular pack had Hancock on the alert…that and the Mentats.

“Thinking.” Yvette replied, watching the rain race down the window and the clouds roll overhead. It wasn’t a hard storm, just a steady, solid rain in bright gray. “I am sorry, I went into the little cache by the alcohol dresser for these. I did not want to empty your jacket.”

He kissed the side of her head and blew the smoke away. “That’s alright beautiful…but how many packs you grab?”

“Just the one.” She picked it up from where she’d set it on the trunk between her legs. 

“How many’s left?” he asked.

Yvette squeezed the pack to pop the foil at the top loose and gave it a shake. “About half.” she admitted.

That wasn’t such great news; that meant she’d been sitting up by herself and dragging away for a while. “Why didn’t you wake me, beautiful? I like helping you think.” Hancock murmured, kissing the side of her head again and finishing the cigarette. He stabbed it out in the ashtray and rested his now-freed hand over hers that were on his arm. 

“You were sleeping so soundly, I did not have the heart to.” She replied, turning her face towards his and was rewarded with a kiss on the forehead. “This last walk back from the Plains, it was very long.”

“Wasn’t too bad,” Hancock said, trying to sound easy and dismissive--the truth was it hadn’t been their easiest trip, being forced to detour by a break-out between some Super Mutants and Gunners just as they’d hit the edge of downtown on the way back in. “It was probably the dancing last night that wore me out.” he finished, smiling. Kent might’ve had the old-world moves, knew how to spin his gal around the floor real pretty, but Hancock was the one with the privilege to get up close on her and make it foreplay. 

Yvette smiled a little, pressing on his arm around his waist to hug him. “At the Rail or in here?”

He chuckled. “You know the answer to that.” Hancock said before kissing her forehead again. “What put the last road trip on your mind?”

Yvette sighed. “That you are so very good to me, to leave with me from here every couple of months, to go all the way out to the Plains and give me the time with Shaun that you do.”

“You say that like it’s a big deal.” Hancock replied, nuzzling against her. “It ain’t; I keep telling you that it just  _ ain’t _ a big deal.” He would sing that verse until the world blew up again if he had to, because it wasn’t  _ really _ that big a deal. Sometimes a little stressful, and Hancock worked hard to try and ignore the fact that it was gonna be their norm for a goddamn  _ long _ time…but Yvette saying it that way, like she was afraid one day he’d put the kibosh on it? Either he’d slipped up and shown a little crankiness while they’d skirted the Mutant/Gunner destruction, or she was having her own doubts and needed him to really positive it up; Hancock wasn’t sure yet what else to say.

“It is  _ Jean _ ; not because it is traveling in the Commonwealth, which is a risk always, but because…” she shook her head. “Because this was only supposed to be our temporary plan: what we do until we have a better solution. Diamond City is out; you cannot be there with me, and I cannot risk the city being stirred against Shaun. Here is better, but still we have this problem: someone will notice that you and I  _ and Shaun _ stay the same. I can lie and blame Vault-Tec, and you are a Ghoul, but people are still leery for the Institute…all it would take is the right kind of drunk to say the wrong kind of thing and…” she sighed. 

She wasn’t wrong, and Hancock hated that fact. “I know…I know, beautiful.”

“There is also the matter that he does not know. Right now, there are no other children permanently there with him, for him to compare to…but that will not be the case forever. It would be stupid to count on such a slim chance.”

Hancock nodded, kissing the side of her head again because he could, and she needed him to; telling him to by the way she pressed against him. “Yeah, and we ain’t Marowski.” he tried to tease.

Yvette’s shoulders bounced with the quick chuckle she made in her throat. “One of these days, Claire is going to have enough and shoot him, and you know what? I will throw a party for her.”

Hancock laughed. “Hey now, don’t get heard saying that! Can’t have my wife causing discord in the neighborhood now, can I?”

“Alright, alright, I said nothing like that at all.” Yvette replied drily. She worked a hand free from their sandwiched grasp to pick up the cigarettes again.

Hancock plucked them out of her fingertips before she could pop the foil again. “Talk to me, not the smoke.” he said softly. “Unless you just really want one again.”

Yvette patted his hand. “There you go, looking for me like a good husband should.”

Warmth filled his face and his chest. It hadn’t been quite a full year for’em wearing their rings, and Hancock still felt the rush when she called him out like that. “Well I just know how you are, that’s all.” he mumbled against the side of her head as he kissed her again.

“Do you remember when I was away for so long? Before I went down into the Institute the first time?”

Hancock nodded. “Yeah? You went uh…shit...what was it called? You had to go by boat, I remember you telling me.”

“Far Harbor.” Yvette answered promptly. “There is a…a sanctuary there, for people like Shaun, remember I told to you?” she began cautiously.

They were really careful about dropping the S-word, even behind closed doors. The Neighborhood Watch pretty much had the room tuned out unless there were gunshots, Hancock knew, but they’d agreed just before getting back for that first sweet month after slipping on the rings that they’d be careful and coded. No talking about what she was, no talking about what Shaun was; just business as usual except they were married. “Yeah, Nicky’s brother is uh…in charge.”

She nodded. “The rain made me think of it. It is a little more north to here; there is more rain, more fog. The people at the docks, they are a little odd, but generally kind. The people that Nick’s brother looks after, many of them are frightened, but they are kind too.” Yvette leaned forward, trying to pull away from Hancock. He had mentioned offhandedly, months and months ago, that he thought she was a good mother. Would he still think so, if she kept talking?

Hancock frowned, but let her rest her head on her arms on the windowsill. He could rest his cheek on her back and still be on her. “You thinking of uh…taking Shaun up that way?” He asked cautiously.

“I do not know.” Yvette replied thickly as the urge to cry made her chest tight and her voice dim. “He cannot stay here, in the Commonwealth. Not forever…and he will have to learn the truth of himself eventually. But…but the Harbor is a long time going, and often it is not possible to go because of the weather and the water. You cannot leave Goodneighbor for very long, you cannot afford to be caught at the Harbor waiting for storms to break. I…I  _ do not _ want to go to Far Harbor to stay and to stay and to stay…” Yvette’s voice quivered. As she had watched the rain, and smoked, and thought, and listened to Hancock snoring, she had realized that whatever answer she came up with, someone was going to be hurt by it, in ways Yvette did not know how to deal with.

“But Shaun’d miss you. Hell, he misses you now and it’s a pretty quick walk.” Hancock said, sitting up. He watched her shoulders flinch and tense. She had apparently gotten herself good and worked up just while she was thinking; he could get that, had done it to himself who-knows how many times. But unless any of the next words out of her mouth were ‘we’re done and I’m leaving for good’, Hancock didn’t think there was anything she had possibly thought of that’d make him act out whatever was going on in her head. “C’mon beautiful, this trunk is hard on my ass. Not as packed as you are, remember? Let’s go curl up and work out the plans.” He gave her hips a light slap. “Because whatever you thinking, you’ve already thought the hell out of it before I even got up; so you and me, we just gotta work out how to make it happen, and get you calmed down.” he gave her hips another slap, then wrapped his arms around her waist. “You love me?”

Yvette nodded.

“You thinking about ditching me?”

She sat up so fast they wound up knocking heads together, turning her head sharply to meet his eyes. “ _ Non _ .”

Hancock nodded. “Ok. So c’mon, you and me, we’ll think together--out loud, like we do.” he said firmly, getting off the trunk and holding his hands out for her to take.

Yvette gripped them tight, let Hancock pull her to her feet and lead her to the bed to spoon up with him, the way he liked. She more preferred being chest to chest, to feel his heartbeat against her cheek as they held one another; but this way  _ was _ easier for them to hear each other.

Hancock pulled her hips, curling to match her curves, feeling her heels against his shins. He stretched his arm across the pillows so she could rest on it instead, and draped his other arm over her.  _ Now _ the bed was warm and right, and while the tension remained hard in her shoulders, it seemed to be melting out of the rest of her just for getting together like this. “See? Better, right? You tell me what you’re thinking, and don’t worry about how it sounds. Lemme hear you, and we can talk it out together. You just gotta clue me in.” Hancock murmured.

Yvette took a deep breath, staring across the room at nothing. “Shaun--human Shaun--left me a tape, with…” she dropped her voice. “With the code to shut down little Shaun. His reset code.”

“Weird.” Hancock murmured. 

“I do not  _ want _ to use it.” she said flatly.

“Ok?” Hancock nodded. “Wouldn’t have said we should.”

Yvette nodded. “I know. I just…if I could not figure something out, something safe…I…might.” It took so much nerve to say that out loud; she wanted to slap herself for just  _ having _ the thought in her head.

“Let’s call that Plan Z. Last ditch, we’re both literally about to die and we don’t wanna leave the kid alone. Ok?” Hancock said immediately. He had no idea how that would even work, but if she was that afraid, to even suggest maybe-possibly do a thing that was so totally unlike her? He’d have to work that much harder with her to figure it out.

“Ok.” Yvette whispered. She hadn’t felt him tense or move away, he hadn’t raised his voice in outrage or protest…and he hadn’t immediately agreed to it as a very probable idea. Slowly, very slowly, the fear she had worked up in her mind--the fear that he was either tired of sort-of step-parenting, or that he would be repulsed at her seemingly un-motherly thinking--was starting to wash away.

“This place, Far Harbor, with Nicky’s brother…what were you thinking about it, beautiful?” Hancock prompted. 

“That…that maybe DiMA could…that he may have some idea, some way to help little Shaun to settle. I think, truly, he would not hesitate to take him in. He means to run a sanctuary for people like Shaun, and…we are something like friends, because I helped him and Nick is my friend and his brother.” 

“That’s my girl, get those favors in.” Hancock teased lightly, bending his arm so he could at least brush her forehead with his fingertips. 

“You know me,  _ une opportuniste _ .” She snorted. 

Hancock chuckled, fingertips brushing her forehead and hair again. “What’s the hiccup? I mean what you’re really…what’s really hanging you up. Because to me, it sounds like putting Shaun somewhere with other uh…people like him, who’d look after him, under a guy you must trust pretty decently  _ because _ you’re even thinking of asking him to look after your kid; sounds like a pretty decent idea.” he kissed the crown of her head. “Minus how far away it is and how you don’t really wanna stay there--”

“And I would not ask for you to go and to stay away from here so long.” Yvette added. She patted his hip. “I need to lie on my back.”

Hancock stretched his legs out, scooting just a little bit away so she could turn and nestle, not pulling his arm away; even when his fingertips went numb, he still liked having his girl all pillowed on him like that. “I’m glad, because I gotta tell ya…that’d be a real tough conversation to have, beautiful.” He said after she settled; there had been moments here and there as they’d gone back and forth, visiting ‘little’ Shaun and bouncing around Goodneighbor and some of her closer settlements, that he’d wondered what he’d say if she asked. There was no question that he loved her, that he’d drunk-rush hell to be with her, do anything for her…but he couldn’t be totally selfish. He was still the mayor of Goodneighbor, there were still ghouls right there in the Commonwealth that needed a place to be that wasn’t just the Slog or a couple of roadsides like his gal had sat up during her earlier wandering. Hancock looked into those Atomic Blue ™ eyes, feeling the rush that hadn’t worn off for being with her, and was glad he didn’t have to try and come up with an answer to a request that he  _ knew _ she wouldn’t make of him.

Yvette nodded, looking up at him, pulling his arm back over her once she got comfortable enough on her back. “The thing…the thing I think might…that…” she sighed. “If little Shaun did not know me as his mother anymore…if he…if he was made somehow to forget that…he wouldn’t miss me. Like he does now, just living in Jamaica Plains.” she swallowed.

That was a stunner of a thought she’d been smoking on, apparently! Hancock watched the tension in her face, her throat, the way her eyes would meet his and then dart away guiltily. Was she calling herself selfish where he couldn’t hear it? “Lemme ask you this, beautiful. And you gotta answer real honestly, alright? For both of us.” Hancock began.

Yvette nodded, heart pounding. The constant up-and-down of fear was making her dizzy; as soon as Hancock put down one worry, a fresh one rose up just as fast.

“What’s more important for you, when it comes to your kid? Not the shit like…ya know, schooling and shit. I mean I know that’d be important but it’s like…” Hancock’s mouth twisted. “Ok, for me, top priority about you is keeping you safe. I gotta know where you are. I gotta make sure you’re eating and drinking, gotta make sure you got a safe place to sleep, make sure you stay in one beautiful piece, and that you  _ feel _ safe…and most importantly, I gotta be _ right there _ to make sure it all happens, so I know for my own screwed-up mind that I’m keeping that priority. Ya feel me?” his cheeks burned spilling that much that fast; all this time later and he still couldn’t get it to sound suave coming out of his mouth. But it was honest, at least, and she’d know that.

Yvette smiled. “It sounds an awful lot like what you would say is top priority for the neighborhood.” she teased.

Hancock snorted. “Well yeah, but you get the extra special touch.” he said with a grin. “The real personal one, ya know? Ya know?” he winked.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “What is it people say? ‘Ditto’.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I mean yeah, but I like the sexier way you say it.”

Yvette smirked. “ _ Pour toi, moi aussi? _ ”

“Oh  _ yeah _ , beautiful. And thanks.” Hancock added, curling his arm up so he could hold her in place for a firm kiss to the temple. “But you get what I mean?” he asked as he relaxed his arm.

It was one of those moments where Yvette was suddenly overwhelmed by the rightness of her choice; overwhelmed by the fact she had gotten lucky a second time and married a man who tried for her just as much as she tried for him. She nodded. “I want Shaun to…to be happy. To have a home, and a bed, and food, and friends. For him to be  _ safe _ . I do not want him to be afraid…and I do not want him to be very sad.”

Hancock nodded. “All sound like pretty typical Good Mom things to me.”

Yvette bit her lip. “You are not upset? And think of me as badly selfish?”

Hancock shook his head. “Beautiful, lemme tell you something: this is a fucked-up thing for you to have to worry about, and…and it pisses me off all over again.” he admitted. “I thought about this, for a second, when we were standing up on the roof after, ya know? I thought that old fuck had just…had just really put the screws to you, and probably meant to even if he wrote that bullshit about thinking you wouldn’t take the kid.” 

“You did?” Yvette asked, surprised. A lot had happened on that day, and she still remembered the rage and indignation Hancock had spat at Shaun’s misreading of her character; she didn’t realize it had had even more weight, that even for a moment that he had thought ahead this far with them. 

“Wish I could say it was for longer than a second, but I was so pissed off about all of it that I had to pick a corner to fight from and I went with the one where that dipshit spent more than ten minutes with you and still didn’t know shit.” Hancock took a deep breath, trying to get calm fast. They weren’t talking about  _ that _ , they were trying to figure out what to do about the robo-kid.

Yvette sat up and reached for the drawer in the nightstand to grab an inhaler. She didn’t know how long it had been since Hancock had woken up, or how many wake-ups he had taken, but it seemed like a good time to offer him a slow-down. “Here.” she laid back down, on her side facing him, still pillowing on his arm, and put the inhaler to his lips.

_ Goddamn _ could she read him like a book sometimes! Hancock smiled, taking it from her; he wasn’t shaking, didn’t need to fight off an emergency crash. He just needed to get calm, so he twisted enough away from her that he could take the hit and blow it at the ceiling, then twisted back just as it hit. The rain outside became a constant whisper to the gentle sparkle in her eyes.

Yvette watched him quietly, seeing the slackness in his cheeks as time slowed down for him. His eyes gleamed, focused on hers intensely. Hancock had said once that the best thing to stare at when he was having a hit of Jet were her eyes--that the color made the trip better, made him happier once time picked back up. 

Hancock breathed out as the rushing whisper turned back into irregular pitter-pattering and the sparks stopped coming off her eyes. “You need?” he offered the inhaler to her.

Yvette shook her head. “I am ok. I am.” she repeated.

Hancock nodded, rolling half onto her to reach the nightstand and set the inhaler down. She giggled and swatted at him for it, and he thought about trying to start something…but if she was still so wound up in her head, she wouldn’t get off. And he was about at the point of being as invested in hers for her sake as he was his for his sake, and not firstly for the ego trip of being a goddamn great lover. “Been trying not to think on it since, because ya know…what the hell  _ do _ we do? I figured when we sat down to talk it out, we’d figure it out together, ya know?”

Yvette nodded. “I think it would hurt very badly for him to forget me, if it had to come to that, but I would know he was safe? And that…and that the letter is still not right.” she had kept that hateful note, using it to wrap up the holotape that had little Shaun’s code on it. It was the only thing she had from the real Shaun; cruel and still sentimental at the same time. 

“And it ain’t right.” Hancock said firmly. “I’m followin’ what you’re layin’ down, beautiful. I am.” he nodded. “I’m with you on whatever plan you go with; you put everybody else first and that’s another thing I like about you.” 

Yvette smiled softly, then sighed. She put her hands on Hancock’s chest, to feel the heat of his skin and his heartbeat; to feel the strength of the muscle underneath and the steadiness he still didn’t realize he provided. “Can I ask a silly what-if question,  _ Jean _ ?”

Hancock nodded, starting to feel the tingling burn in his fingertips; pretty soon he’d have to shift around and get her off his arm…he kinda hated that fact, even if it meant that the circulation was still running pretty good from heart to finger. “Sure.”

“What would you do?”

Hancock blinked. “Kinda impossible question is that, beautiful?” The tingling burn intensified. “I need my arm back.” he said apologetically.

Yvette moved away from him so Hancock could bring his arm out from under her head. She laid on her back again and waited.

Hancock stretched out on his back, shaking the feeling back into his fingers before he reached down to hold her hand, lying shoulder to shoulder with her. 

“Will you answer now?” she asked.

He shifted uncomfortably. “I mean I dunno, beautiful. How am I supposed to answer that kinda thing?”

“Say it was…say it was you, and not me, who had been frozen. If it were you, instead of me, what would you do?”

Hancock frowned, mind cranking. “Am I pretty like you?” he teased, to buy time as he looked over at her.

Yvette snorted, turning to look at him. “No, I am afraid you will have to be your devastatingly handsome self.”

“Well…that’s all I know how to be anyway so that’s fine.” Hancock joked. “So I’m in the deep freeze and…look no offense, but Martin wasn’t exactly my type.” 

She giggled and squeezed his hand. “I know you are stalling, you are being literal to stall me!” Yvette shook her head. “But I see how to get ahead of you,  _ Jean _ \--I am your wife after all.” 

That stopped his laughter. “Yeah...I guess if it were me, and not you….it would still be you, and me. And uh…we’d have…” he trailed off, the sudden weight of the idea coming down hard on his mind. For a brief second, he could taste the madness that had sent Yvette all over the Commonwealth. Because if it had been him, married to  _ her _ , waking up and seeing somebody rip their kid out of her arms before putting a bullet between those beautiful eyes…when he woke up, he’d do what Yvette had done. He’d’ve done anything and everything to hunt down the sonofabitch; ripped the fucker apart when he found him. 

It was after that, Hancock realized, that would’ve been different. Yvette was the kind of gal to jump in and try to help, didn’t matter the situation. Yvette believed in love, all kinds of love, and did her best to spread it around. Yvette chased her demons out with love and sex, not chems and booze and sex. If he had managed to avoid dying or overdosing long enough to go as for as she had; to get down to the Institute, he wouldn’t have waited for any speeches. The second Father showed his face, Hancock would’ve shot him. But if he had somehow managed to not do that, and somehow wound up with a robo-son? 

Yvette watched his face, watched his brow bounce and his lips occasionally part and then close again. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked what he would do in a different place; it was too big a question, it reached too far into strange places that were better left unexplored. Yvette squeezed his hand to try and bring him back. “ _ Jean _ ?” she called softly.

Hancock felt the little squeeze on his fingertips. He took a deep breath, and then another. Then he turned to look at her. “If it were me, I couldn’t have done it. I’d’ve lost my damn mind about two minutes after waking up and…and seeing you like that.” he shrugged. “I can do a lot of shit, I’m mean with a knife, I can give a good speech, but I don’t think I could have held my shit together long enough to go from a Vault to the Institute.”

Yvette rolled onto her side, pillowing her head on her own arm, free hand reaching to cup Hancock’s face. “You would have. For love, and for revenge, you would have. Because that is how I did it…and in this question, where you are me, the only thing that has changed is that you are me and I am in  _ Martin’s _ place. We would still have loved each other passionately--we would still be married. We would have been settling down to raise our child together. I think--I am very confident to think--that you would go as far as I did, in the name of our love.”

Hancock’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t fault her logic, even if he didn’t quite have her faith in him. “Beautiful, you sure know how to get a guy right in his feelings.”

She took her hand away from his face to kiss her thumb, then pressed it to his lips.

Hancock kissed it back, then brought her hand to rest on his chest. She had a thing about feeling his pulse, he’d noticed; he didn’t mind it either, her soft little hand on him to make sure he was still kicking. “Me, I’d wander with the kid. Because in that scenario, I’m not the mayor, and I don’t got you. Wander till I couldn’t do it anymore, and then either use his shut-down code to shut him down right before I died, or get him set up with some kinda…I dunno ‘play this in case I’m dead’ set-up if I couldn’t do it or got dead too fast. And, if I’m still the sexy, suave kinda guy lying here with you…I’d have a lot of time  _ to _ wander.” Hancock shrugged. He tried not to think about it; tried not to think about a kid with Charlie’s* pudgy cheeks and her Atomic Blue ™ eyes…maybe even his old crooked nose. It was too weird and creepy to think about, on top of everything else. “…kind of a weird train of thought, beautiful, I gotta say.”

Yvette nodded. “Thank you for answering me  _ Jean _ …I feel a little better.” she squeezed his hand again. 

She was beaming at him, grateful and soft and he melted. “Yeah? I mean I’m only guessing anyway, ain’t done anything.” Hancock replied, cheeks burning. He wasn’t a hero, but damned if she wasn’t looking over at him like he was.

“You have done  _ plenty _ …” Yvette sighed, turning her head back to look at the ceiling. “I am going to take Shaun to Far Harbour, and speak with DiMA.”

“When?” Hancock reached for her face, turning her back to face him. “When do we go, beautiful?”

It was not a surprise, that Hancock would come along without being asked directly; it still touched her. “I can find out. There is a family who lives at the coast and runs a ferry back and forth; Nick and I helped them some time ago, so they are friendly to us.” Yvette pursed her lips. “You understand why I think to do this…I do not think others will.”

Hancock reached out, rolling her into his arms and wrapping her up in a hug. “Gettin’ ahead of us, beautiful. First things first, get Shaun to Far Harbor. Then up to uh, the sanctuary place. We get that far, then we worry about shit, ok?”

Yvette nodded, pressing into his embrace. 

Hancock kissed the top of her head, rubbing her back in smooth circles until he felt her relax against him. Whatever happened next, they’d get through it somehow.


	2. Justifications and Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting with DiMA to get help, and having to explain herself is a very wearing thing for the Sole Survivor. But it has to be done.

“So this is Acadia, Mom?” Shaun, wearing a Nuka-World baseball cap and matching backpack, asked as he skipped ahead a few steps to the junk gate.

“ _ Arrêtez! Shaun, attends! _ ” Yvette called out, picking up her pace, hand out to grab his shoulder and snag him backwards.  _ “ _ _ Regardez la caméra _ .” She said, pointing at the lens over the door. “This is a place of cautious people; you do not simply run up to the door, ok?”

“Sorry Mom.”

Hancock caught up, huffing. Far Harbor was a weird, rocky place that rolled around a lot higher and sharper than the Commonwealth did; it made a guy feel out of shape in spite of himself.

“Miss Yvette? Who is with you?” The voice was soft and monotonous.

“Oh  _ cool _ , there’s a speaker!” Shaun declared. He waved up at the camera. “Hello!”

“Hello, young man.”

Yvette put her arm around Shaun’s shoulders, reaching back for Hancock’s hand to pull him closer to her side. “This is my son Shaun, and my husband  _ Jean ‘Ancock _ . May we come in?” she called to the camera.

Her hand was trembling. Hancock squeezed it as he tried to catch his breath on the sly. 

“Of course. Please, come in.” 

The junk gate opened with a creak. Yvette hooked her fingers into the loop on top of Shaun’s backpack to keep him from darting ahead, shaking her head and shooting Hancock an exasperated look. Hancock snorted, squeezing her hand again to try and still the tremor. 

“Remember your manners, Shaun. DiMA is a little unusual to look at, at first, but he is kind. And do not touch anything you are not invited to touch.”

“I  _ know _ Mom.” Shaun sighed. “I promise.”

“And you too  _ Jean _ .” Yvette said with a wink as Shaun giggled.

“When do I ever get handsy, beautiful?” Hancock replied drily, taking some pleasure in the color rising in her face.

She squeezed his hand and made a face at him as she guided them through the door.

Seeing Nick Valentine’s face but not hearing that hard-boiled burr was a trip, but it didn’t distract from the surreal, staggering walk of a pretty much naked-Nick Valentine body, coming closer to them with a twitchy gait and about ten thousand wires coming off him. Hancock was goddamn glad the Diamond City dick had a trench coat.

“Miss Yvette, it has been quite some time. I am pleased to see you.” the synth said slowly, reaching out with both hands.

Yvette took his hands warmly. “ _ Bonjour DiMA,  _ _ ça _ _ va?” _

The synth’s face crinkled as a not-quite-right smile spread across it. The consoles against the wall began to whirl louder, and then he started to speak. “ _ Je vais bien. L'Acadie est en sécurité, Far Harbor est en paix et les Enfants d'Atome ont honoré leur accord.” _ DiMA said slowly, enunciating each word carefully.

She nodded.  _ “Je suis content d'entendre ça, DiMA. Les agents "Railroad" ont-ils été utiles?”  _ Yvette spoke comfortably, visibly excited at the rare chance to sink into more familiar words, even for this short time.

“ _ Quelque peu.”  _ DiMA’s head tilted slowly from side-to-side; it wasn’t fast enough to be called a bob. “ _ Nous ne sommes toujours pas d'accord sur nos méthodes, mais ils nous ont aidés à nous défendre contre quelques attaques de  _ Trappers _ et ils apportent souvent des fournitures utiles.”  _ The synth let go of one of her hands to gesture to a tense-faced man in a lab coat entering the room. _ “Faraday se félicite de ces baisses d'approvisionnement.” _

Yvette smiled and inclined her head towards the doctor in greeting. The expression she then turned back to DiMA was much more serious.  _ “ _ _ Beaucoup bien; mais j'ai besoin de ton aide.”  _ The synth blinked, face slowly shifting into a surprised expression, opening his mouth to speak, but Yvette quickly interrupted. “ _ Je dois vous parler en privé, alors veuillez patienter.”  _ she said low and fast.

DiMA nodded, slowly turning his attention to the boy and Ghoul standing behind her. He stared, blinking slowly, seeming to take the measure as Yvette let go of his hand and turned to greet Faraday more warmly.

“Whoa…” Shaun said quietly. The way his mother spoke, when it was all French, fascinated him; to hear her go at it with a 2 nd -gen synth who obviously had a large language bank at his disposal was really cool.

“You catch any of that?” Hancock said. He was still unnerved by the Not-Nick’s face; that smile was definitely one only a mother could love. He looked over at Shaun, caught his amazed expression. Hancock couldn’t blame him; when Yvette started rattling off like that, it was something to watch.

“Nope, but it sounded  _ really  _ cool.” Shaun beamed up at him.

Hancock snorted. “Yeah, yeah it did, kid.” He nudged the kid’s shoulder. “Gonna have to let her teach ya if you wanna be nosy.”

Shaun laughed. “You too?”

“I’d love to,” Hancock said, “but remember? No nose.” he tapped his cheek, beside the nose hole. “Leaves me out.”

The synth-boy laughed again as Yvette stepped back to them. She put a hand on Shaun’s shoulder and her arm around Hancock’s waist. “ _ Docteur _ _ Faraday _ , my son Shaun and my husband  _ Jean _ .” Yvette said by way of introduction. “ _ Il est le maire du Goodneighbor.”  _ She explained to DiMA.

“ _ Oh _ .” he said softly. “We are very pleased to meet your family, Yvette. Shaun, and John.”

The doc, Faraday, stepped closer. His face screwed up in a surveying squint, locked on Hancock’s face. Hancock didn’t really appreciate the screw-eye, but since nothing had been said, he knew he had to mind his manners. So he put his hand out to the lab coat. “Hancock.”

Shaun waved at Faraday, then broke away from his mother to go closer to DiMA. “You’re a 2 nd -generation model, aren’t you?” he asked eagerly.

Faraday shook Hancock’s hand firmly and gave Shaun a little wave. “DiMA, you really should have a seat--” he started.

“ _ Shaun _ .” Yvette hissed sternly, reaching out to snag his backpack again. 

“It is alright Yvette.” DiMA nodded slowly and carefully, the wires around him bouncing with the movement. “How do you know that, Shaun?”

“The Institute used the 2 nd -gens for a lot of the maintenance tasks, like the excavation or linework and stuff like that!” Shaun replied.

DiMA’s head cocked in jerky movements, face blank. He opened his mouth, intending to ask an avalanche of questions, but before he could there was a burst of noise that startled them all.

“Yvette!”The noise was the bang of the double doors to the left bursting open and a beaming brunette with a pinched face rushing through. “Chase said you were here and you have your son! And a husband? I’m so happy for you!” she shouted as she rushed towards them.

Yvette turned towards the woman with her arms out, smiling. “Aster, how are you?” she managed to get out before the other woman practically tackled her with an enthusiastic hug. “And your gardens?”

“Oh you know, as long as the flowers are growing and my research is going, I’m happy as can be!” she chirped.

“I am glad,” Yvette replied, stepping to stand beside her and link arms. “My husband  _ Jean _ , he is the mayor of Goodneighbor, on the mainland. And this is my son Shaun.”She said, gesturing between them. “This is Aster--she is Acadia’s doctor and a good friend.” Yvette finished with a smile.

It was a bright, sparkling smile, like a Nuka Girl cranked to eleven. Hancock gave the chipper girl a salute and remained quiet, focused on that 10k-watt smile. That was her tense smile, her social smile, the one Yvette put up like a shield about as fast as she could pull a trigger. He wanted to wrap her up right then, squeeze that smile out of her; let her know even when shit was going to be hard, and tense, she didn’t have to shove it back so far away from her.

Or maybe she did, because Shaun was right there, looking between his mother and the other woman curiously. “Hello Aster.” He said quietly, just watching them.

“Shaun,  _ ta _ _ manières _ !” Yvette scolded almost automatically.

Shaun flushed. “Miss Aster--Doctor Aster…sorry.” he mumbled.

“Oh that’s ok, everyone just calls me Aster.” She said brightly. “Did you guys have a good trip?”

DiMA watched the group exchange pleasantries, eyes bouncing as his aging sensors struggled to keep up with the sudden influx of information. Yvette had succeeded in rescuing her son, along with destroying the biggest threat to Acadia and to the mainland. But there was something “off”, as one might say. A tension that did not match the smile or vocal tics, that DiMA could not immediately allocate its source.

“You should really sit down, DiMA.” Faraday murmured, hands immediately going to the nodules at the back of his head to insure they were still secure after so much motion. 

DiMA slowly nodded his assent, easing back into his seat. “She told me she needed our help. I cannot speculate as to how or what we might have to offer.”

“She didn’t say anything?” Faraday murmured, continuing to flutter about and ensure everything was connected and secure and working as it should be; he had already done a few dozen of these little checks already that day, and before he went to sleep he would do a few dozen more. It was the only activity that soothed his constant worry that something catastrophic would happen and they would be without DiMA.

“Only that she wished to speak privately, and to ask me if I would remain patient. I do not believe her family shares her fluency, but she appears to still be reluctant to speak before them. I am curious.” he confessed to Faraday. “We will help, of course. It is what we do. But I do not know what we have to offer.”

“I guess she’ll tell us, won’t she?” Faraday muttered. He hoped it wasn’t dangerous, or noisy. He was well and past done with dangerous, noisy goings-on at this point. The end of the Institute should have been a nice neat finish to their major concerns, but the Brotherhood of Steel still existed somewhere. Not an  _ immediate  _ concern thanks to Yvette and the Railroad, Faraday had to admit to himself, but still a potential threat!

“In time. I expect she is simply waiting for the opportune privacy.” DiMA mused. “Which may be now.” He gestured to Aster’s retreat with the mayor-husband and son behind her as Yvette remained behind. “Will you provide another seat for our friend, Faraday?” DiMA inclined his head slowly to Yvette again. “I am curious as to how we may be of help to you.”

With the promise of snacks and permission to poke around Aster’s lab, Shaun had happily left DiMA’s chambers. Hancock had been slower to go, but he seemed to understand the look she gave him. He was, in his own way, growing into a very good step-father, Yvette thought as she turned back to DiMA and tried to steel herself for the conversation ahead. Faraday shot her an unhappy look as he wheeled over another stool then sat down on his own, as close to DiMA as the dais would allow. 

Yvette supposed she couldn’t blame him; he was a nervous man and in fairness the last time she had been traipsing through there, the Institute and the Brotherhood were still active and looming over the more local threats of discord and Atoms. “It is a tremendous favor I am trying to ask you for, and I do not think you will like every part of my idea…but I hope you will allow me to explain.” she began.

DiMA’s brow bounced, unable to hold the strong frown that he clearly wanted to express. “Are you in danger, my friend?”

“ _ Non, non _ , I am not. It is…it is complicated.” Yvette shrugged her pack off, sitting it between her feet so she could open it and bring out Shaun’s letter, and the holotape that sat right on top. It had been a risk, bringing them and not burying them--little Shaun was  _ so _ very childish, and quick to go into things he didn’t have clear permission to go into--but she needed the proof at hand. “Here. Perhaps it will be best to start with these, so that you know as much as I know.” Yvette held them out, hands shaking slightly as a massive wave of guilt welled up inside.

Faraday took the holotape and rolled to a console on the far wall to put it in. DiMA’s eyes rolled back as he began to process it. Then Faraday rolled back and took the letter to read. 

Yvette waited, hands in her lap, trying not to crack her knuckles or play with her wedding ring, to let the pair learn the truth in quiet, at their own pace. She tried to keep her face calm and neutral, even as Faraday’s face twisted in disgust and DiMA’s brow twitched rhythmically. 

“This is…this is…I’m sorry but this is  _ the worst thing _ I think they’ve ever done!” Faraday exploded. “Never mind the-the-the  _ moral _ implications of this, what was even the  _ possible _ beneficial logic behind it?!” 

“I do not know,” Yvette said with a shrug, shaking her head, “Shaun--the adult Shaun--never said. He called it an experiment, there were no others like it. Some of the opinions I found around the lab…ahm…” she trailed off because Faraday probably wouldn’t have appreciated how many terminals she helped herself to, even as a free synth. “The few researchers that knew of him--little Shaun--were unnerved at the uncanny nature of a…” she trailed off, unable to say it out loud, when little Shaun could come bounding into the room.

Faraday shook his head. “I knew--I mean--the research bordered on unethical with more regularity than it rightly should have, when I was  _ there _ .” he said. “But…the depths of wrongness that they’ve gone by doing this?! I-I-I can’t fathom.”

DiMA gasped, arching in his seat. Faraday nearly toppled over pushing off with his legs to wheel to the console and remove the holotape. 

“DiMA?” Yvette stood, reaching up to touch his face; there was a twitch in his cheek and his eyes were wide. “DiMA,  _ parlez-moi _ .” she murmured.

His hand went up to touch his other cheek. “I do not have the proper modules to produce tears. And yet, I am overwhelmed by the desire to express sorrow in that way.” DiMA shook his head. “It is as cruel as everything that they have done…and now you are here to ask us for help.” he said slowly. “You will ask us to keep him here. It is appropriate; this is a refuge  _ for _ beings like him…” 

Yvette nodded, backing away to sit down. “ _ Oui _ , but not only that.”

Faraday came back without his stool, springing up the dais to check DiMA’s connections and all the little things he knew to check. 

“I am well, Faraday.” DiMA tried to reassure him. “I am only processing a tremendous amount of grief and confusion. And our friend still has a request to make of us.” he added. “We must focus.”

Yvette took a deep breath. “You will not like it.” she warned.

“That may be. But you must finish your request, and we must discuss it.” DiMA said.

She nodded. “I…would like for Shaun to stay here, with you all, yes…but I would also like you to…to…” Yvette swallowed, fighting back the guilt and grief that kept trying to rise up like bile in her throat. “To make him know his nature, but to forget me.”

Faraday’s mouth dropped open. “Are you  _ nuts _ ?!” he demanded. “How could you even  _ think _ of something like that, you’re his--I mean you’re not but you are--I mean--” he struggled to make the best accusation. She was--at least as far as the boy was concerned--his mother. If he was made aware of the truth, then he would understand she could not possibly  _ be _ his mother, but she had mothered him up to this point, but how the hell did you phrase that in a shorter, easier-to-shout sentence?

“We could inform him easily, Yvette. But why insist on such dangerous tampering? You are welcome here, and your husband would be welcome here as well, of course.” DiMA said. “There is no risk in that.”

“ _ Jean _ is the mayor of one of the very few places in the Commonwealth where a Ghoul may go, and be, without fear that they will be expelled, or murdered for being a Ghoul. It is…” Yvette pursed her lips, trying to find the right words. “It is for a Ghoul what Acadia may be for  _ les synthetiques _ . I cannot ask him to leave it, and he would not be keen to leave it; the Commonwealth is still very much in little wars with itself. I am sure  _ Jean _ would have someone trusted to step into his place, but to keep it safe, the way it is? It takes careful hands, and much luck, and an upset like losing  _ Jean _ would not be good for it--all of these things, he already knows.” she explained.

“I understand he is your husband, but does he take the priority over your son?” DiMA asked.

It was a cutting question, and if Faraday had said it she would have taken it as an attack. But DiMA lived in the uncanny valley between his developed humanity and data; he could throw out insults but the only ones that could stick were the ones he genuinely believed to be insulting; and Yvette didn’t think that he had yet developed the sense to judge a situation like this in that way. “It is not only about  _ Jean _ and Goodneighbor, DiMA.” Yvette replied. “Shaun will never grow. If we settle in a place with other people, they will notice. Maybe not in a year, two years. But five? Ten? When Shaun should be a man, they will notice he is still only a little boy. And that will frighten them, even as the memories of the Institute soften at their edges. I am sure the others here have told you what happens when people are afraid  _ en masse _ and you only have so many means to defend yourself.” she said matter-of-factly.

DiMA did not reply, but his lips twitched and then settled as whatever response he had thought to start was dismissed just as quickly. 

“Then you don’t settle for long!” Faraday replied huffily. 

“Like you did?” Yvette turned towards him sharply. “How long have you been here? Do you call this place home? Is it good to have a place to  _ call _ home, Faraday?” she snapped. “But then you look at me and you say ‘this is something for me, but you should not have it with your son and he should not have it for himself’, does that make sense?” she demanded.

Faraday had the good sense to look away, at least marginally admonished.

“You are a mother…how does this request--the sum of it--coincide with that fact?” DiMA asked.

Yvette drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself and calm down again. She had managed to yell at Faraday without  _ actually  _ yelling at him, but her temper was so close to breaking. “It is  _ because _ I am his mother that I ask this, DiMA. If you are a mother, you should want what is best for your children. When they are little, you can decide that for them: you tell them ‘no, you cannot have only candies for dinner’, you teach them to wash their hands and brush their teeth and you try to teach them to be kind, so they will grow up to be good people. When they are older, and they are becoming their own persons? You  _ still _ want the best for them, but you have to learn to step back. That they will grow and they will decide what is  _ their _ best, and your place as their mother is to go from deciding for them to supporting them in ways that make sense.” She explained slowly. “Shaun will never grow. That is the biggest threat to him. And I will not be alive forever with him to protect him the way I am trying to now. Then he will be a little boy alone, and that…that is even more dangerous  _ now _ than it was before.” 

Faraday shook his head. “This still doesn’t make sense!”

“Faraday, she has not finished speaking.” DiMA said slowly. “I appreciate that you are willing to answer these mysteries for me. I still do not understand how it has made you ask this favor.”

“If Shaun is here, he will be with people like him. If he knows what he is, and he knows that the people around him are like him, then there is no fear. No one will look at him and say ‘it has been ten years, he should be a young man now but still he is a little boy’ and become afraid, because  _ here _ that will be normal. And normal will be safe.” Yvette swallowed, rubbing her eyes to clear them before going on. “And if he does not remember me, he does not know me, then there is nothing to nag at him. To make him sad, to remind him that who he believed he was for at least a little while was…was not as true as he thought.”

“I still can’t believe you’d even suggest this.” Faraday snapped.

“Shaun being safe, and healthy, and happy is more important than anything. What he is,  _ this _ is the safest place for him, with people I know I can trust to care for him as they care for each other--that I have seen with my own eyes.” Yvette snapped back. “What I want, besides that it cannot happen, does not matter. Shaun does. And I think that as much as this idea hurts, as much as I would give for it to be different…” she shrugged. “Wish on a star for riches and piss on your shoes; what will you get first? Wet shoes.” 

Faraday frowned.

Maybe she hadn’t gotten it quite right, but the sentiment was still there.

“It is dangerous, you do understand.” DiMA said slowly. 

“I remember…my hope is that because we do not have to rush, that it is not a matter of go-go-go before we are found, that it may at least be done…more cautiously.” 

“DiMA you can’t  _ possibly _ agree with her thinking on this.” Faraday said to him, turning bodily away from Yvette to plead with DiMA directly.

“I do not care for most of the plan, this is true. But I can appreciate her logic, and I cannot fault it. Why else does Acadia exist, except to keep our people safe? And this is a special case; we have never had someone like Shaun come to us. We will never have someone like Shaun come to us again. This is not a standard to set, but an outlying anomaly we must contend with in its own solitary context.” DiMA looked at Yvette sadly. “Are you sure? If there is any doubt, we cannot in good conscience go forward.” he said as Faraday sputtered indignantly.

“DiMA, there is always doubt. Motherhood is one doubt after another.” Yvette replied. “But this is not something I thought up on a whim, that I do because ‘oh I just want to not have him’. You will  _ never _ know the depths I went to for my son…and none of it matters, because at the end of the day,  _ what is best for Shaun?  _ That is the only part that matters.”

DiMA’s lips flattened into a firm straight line as he stared at her, processing. “Who knows what Shaun is?”

“I do.  _ Jean _ does. The core of the Railroad knows.”

“And who knows that you are here?” he asked.

“Us. Captain Avery, and the fisherman who brought us. I told them we were bringing him here to stay for a little while, because of troubles in the Commonwealth and his interest in mechanics and science. They do not expect to see him with us when we return to the boat.”

“Will they expect your return to retrieve him?”

Yvette shook her head. “They can, but the Commonwealth is a big place, and violence happens. They will safely assume that if we do not return, we may be dead after some years. It will be sad, and they may think ‘oh that poor little boy is an orphan’ but they will assume that he grows up here, and makes his own way, the same as anyone else in Far Harbor  _ or _ the Commonwealth. It is not an uncommon story.”

“No, it is not.” DiMA conceded. “If we do this for you, it cannot be undone…and depending on the chances of success, you may not be able to return here.” 

“I know.” Yvette said quietly, hastily wiping her eyes again. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought of that. That was foolish though; it happened sometimes with the synths the Railroad worked with--either the wipes don’t fully take, leaving just enough of a memory that could be triggered by something as small as the sound of a chair squeaking. Then the poor soul broke down, and sometimes disappeared into themselves completely. The thought that that Shaun could end up like that…maybe she  _ should  _ have just used the damn shut-down code and dealt with that. “I have his close-down access code, but that is…”

“Murder. It’s murder.” Faraday said quickly. “Glad to see you at least know that.”

“Faraday, please. See this as it is: a mother wants to protect her child by all means necessary. It is fortunate that Yvette is our friend and that we are hers. We can provide a help that no one else can; shelter, supervision, understanding. We are Shaun’s people. We must accept that responsibility and that honor, because its cost is being paid by someone other than us.” DiMA closed his eyes. “I am sorry for this, my friend.”

“So am I.” Yvette managed to squeeze out. “But I am glad you understand. And I am glad that I can trust you.”

DiMA’s eyes opened. “I think perhaps it must be done quickly…you should go, and collect your husband. Perhaps say some sort of goodbye to your son?”

This time her eyes were dry, but the wave of guilt finally crashed, crushing her chest and making it almost impossible to breathe. Yvette forced a nod. “I can tell him we are going to help pick some dinner.” 

“It will be best to do this quickly, I understand.” DiMA said with a slow nod. “Thank you for this trust. I hope, some day, the world will be different enough that we may all see each other again.” 

Faraday didn’t add anything to the sentiment.

“ _ Moi aussi _ …” Yvette said softly, turning sharply towards the double doors. Do it fast, for Shaun’s sake. For her sake. Just do it fast…


	3. And Now We Say Goodbye

Shaun was blowing across the top of a Nuka Cherry bottle, frowning. “Shoot.” he muttered.

Hancock had a bottle of Nuka Cola up to his lips. “Nah, nah you gotta blow  _ across _ it, try not to let your puff go down. And lick your lips, it don’t work too good dry. S’why a lot of Ghouls have a hard time with it.” he said, nudging Shaun playfully. “Like this, yeah?” Hancock licked his lips, tucked the bottle against his bottom lip and chin, and and pursed his lips gently. He blew across the top of the bottle, making a long bouncy whistle. “Alright kid, try again.”

Face screwed up in concentration, Shaun mimicked Hancock’s actions and managed to make a short burst of sound. “I did it!” he said triumphantly.

“It just takes practice and spit, like I toldja.” Hancock replied.

Yvette stopped short of them where they sat near the little throw-together trader stand, just for a moment; Shaun on an old metal box and Hancock on a wobbly folding chair, holding pop bottles and making noise. She stopped just to watch and burn this moment into her heart. There was no point in dwelling on the unfairness of it, the cruelty of things. There would be time for that later; for now she just wanted to watch her husband and her son in camaraderie. But like all sweetness, it did not last nearly as long as she wanted.

Shaun saw her. “Mom! Mom, listen! Hancock’s teaching me a song!” he blew across the bottle again.

“Oh? Which one?” She asked, coming closer to sit on the very edge of the same metal box Shaun sat on.

“Bouncing Betty.” he said brightly.

“ _ Jean _ !” Yvette tried to stifle a laugh; scolding didn’t do much good if you laughed as you did it. “That is  _ not _ a thing to teach a ten year old boy!”

“I wasn’t teaching him the  _ words _ , just the tune.” Hancock said, holding his hands up in surrender. “No harm in  _ that _ .”

“He said I could learn the words once I got some hair on my chin.” Shaun added.

“You really selling me up the river right now, kid.” Hancock snorted.

Yvette shook her head. “Terrible. Shame on you,” she wagged her finger at Hancock, “and you understand that that is not a song to sing just anywhere, ok?” Yvette slid her arm around Shaun. “Promise to me that you understand that.”

Shaun nodded. “Yup! Are we staying here for a while, together?” he asked.

Yvette kissed the top of his head, hugging him to her side. “For a little while, yes.  _ Jean _ and I are going to go outside, to help pick things for dinner. You remember why?”

“Because you gotta help, because just taking makes you a dirty Raider.” Shaun replied promptly.

Yvette nodded, swallowing hard to push down the lump in her throat. “ _ Exactement _ . My smart son.” she hugged him up again, kissing the top of his head again.

“You’re hugging kind of hard Mom.” Shaun said, squirming.

“I am sorry…I am just very happy to have time with you.” Yvette forced herself to loosen her grip. “Will you do me a  _ big _ , big favor?”

Shaun looked up at her with Martin’s hazel eyes. “What is it, Mom?”

Yvette willed her hands not to shake as she reached around her neck. “I want you to hold on to Papa’s holotags for me, so I do not lose them in the dirt. The chain is old, and sometimes it slips.” she lied as she undid the tags. “It is yours too, as much as mine. We can keep it safe between us.” Yvette said softly as she fastened the tags around Shaun’s neck. 

He picked up the tag to read it. “Martin O’Shea, United States Armored Corps.” he read. “Dad was really tall, wasn’t he?”

“Oh yes, very. You had to be, to be a part of the power armor corps then.” Yvette nodded, looking over his head at Hancock. He frowned a little, and set the cola bottle down on the ground, moving to the edge of his seat like he did when he was about to get up. 

“Will I be really tall too?” Shaun asked, looking up at her again.

“I do not know Shaun. Your papa was tall, and his papa was tall, but mine was not so tall. We will…we will have to see.” she said with a forced brightness, cheeks hurting from the fakeness of her smile. 

“Ok!” Shaun dropped the tag against his shirt carelessly, picking up the bottle again to practice.

Yvette hugged him again, and kissed the top of his head. “Be good while we are not here.” She said softly.

Shaun nodded. “I will! But hurry, ok? Aster said she would let me look at some of her slides and I want you to see them too, Mom.”

“We will be fast.” Yvette murmured, getting up. Hancock was on his feet in a snap, hand out for her to grab; and she did, hard enough to feel the skin give a little. He would have a fantastic bruise before they got back to the boat, at this rate. “I love you, Shaun.”

“Love you too, Mom!” He said brightly before resuming his play with the bottle.

Hancock hurried her--or maybe she was hurrying him--out of the room. Yvette couldn’t say; it was like the day she left the Vault all over again. She was nearly blind, nearly deaf, feeling the scream in her throat and unable to open her mouth to let it loose. Not even  _ Jean’s _ hand in hers, or his arm around her waist--and they were there, they surely  _ had _ to be there, even though she could not feel his touch in those moments--helped.

It wasn’t until the smell of rads and the coldness of the Harbor breeze across her face that Yvette broke, just a little. She shoved away from Hancock and staggered for the gate, throwing herself through it and making three shaky steps before she doubled over. It was mostly bile and part of a Mirelurk cake foisted on her by Captain Avery’s welcoming generosity, but even after those had cleared her throat, Yvette could not stop gagging and heaving. She couldn’t quiet it down or catch her breath; all she could do was brace against a nearby tree. The taste of blood filled her mouth as her throat was rubbed raw by her body’s refusal to stop.

Yvette had no idea how long she spent doubled over, hugging a tree, and fruitlessly vomiting. By the time it seemed to pass, she was dizzy and her head and her stomach were aching, although that pain paled in comparison to the misery strangling her throat and her heart. She was dimly aware of Hancock’s touch; he was rubbing her back with one hand and held the other near her ear, pulling her hair back from her cheek.

There was a terse cough behind them. 

Yvette struggled to stand upright, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Hancock’s arms came around her like a vise, his feet planted wide to keep her up on the uneven high terrain. She turned miserably towards the cough.

Chase stood there, holding their packs, one in each hand. How long she had been watching with that stern, Courser face, Yvette had no idea. She held their packs out to Hancock. 

He took one, hooking it over his shoulder and tried to puzzle out how to grab the other without dropping his wife. “Thanks.”

Something  _ almost  _ like pity crossed Chase’s face. “Here.” she stepped closer and held the pack for Yvette, guiding her arms through the slings and helping the miserable woman settle it against her back.

Yvette tried to take a deep breath and choked on it. Still, she managed to get the pack on with Chase’s help, and turned around with Hancock’s help. “Thank you.” she rasped.

“For what it’s worth,” Chase said suddenly, “I think this is a smart thing you’re doing.” she looked uncomfortable, either with the compliment itself or the fact she did not typically give any kind of compliments.

Yvette shrugged. “Thank you, I think? …take care. Of yourself, of everyone, of…” she trailed off.

Chase nodded curtly. “Safe travels.” She then turned sharply on her heel and went back through the junk gate.

“C’mon beautiful, let’s get going.” Hancock murmured, arm around her waist and pulling one of her arms across his shoulders. “One foot, then the other. Like a bad hangover.”

Yvette let him manipulate her, staring at her feet and thinking to herself  _ à _ _ gauche, à droite, à gauche, à droite _ . Just  _ à _ _ gauche, à droite, à gauche, à droite _ that would take them back down to the Harbor and to the boat and back to the Commonwealth. Just  _ à _ _ gauche, à droite, à gauche, à droite _ …

Somewhere about halfway, Hancock saw the armor start to go up. That pretty swan neck straightened, she moved a half-step away from him and gripped the straps on her pack instead of his hand. Her eyes went all hard and glittery, and if he didn’t know her so goddamn well, he could be fooled into thinking she was all brushed off and fine. But his hand was throbbing, already bruised, and he  _ did _ know her goddamn well; this was for the folks at the Harbor, for the boatman, for however many faces they saw until Hancock could get her behind a closed door and get her undone. It should probably bother the hell out of him that she’d go like that; all hard and poster-girl pretty like she wasn’t bleeding out on the inside. But he did it too: did it when he had to give bad news or make a point or every time Diamond City was mentioned; it’d be real shit hypocritical of him to get on her about doing it. Plus, Hancock knew once he got her alone, he could break the glass and let his girl back out, no matter how thick it got around her. So Hancock didn’t say a word as she lied their way through Far Harbor and back onto the boat, or when she lied her way out of dinner with the Nakanos when they finally got back to solid land. He just watched and waited, eyes peeled for a decent spot to hole up on the road when she finally cut loose.

The salt tang had just about left the air entirely when Yvette’s steps stopped dead, and she bent double again.

Hancock was on her in a heartbeat, hands right to her hair to pull it back from her face. “Hit me with it, beautiful.”

“ _ Jean _ \-- _ Jean  _ I cannot--I cannot breathe,  _ Jean _ .” Yvette turned her face up to look at him. “I cannot--I cannot,  _ Jean _ .” Her voice shook with panic. 

“C’mon beautiful, time for a pit-stop.” Hancock said, grabbing her arm and pulling it across his shoulders, wrapping his arm around her waist and tightening his grip hard. “See that house right there, with the kinda-green door? Just look at that, beautiful--that’s where we’re headed, it ain’t far.” Hancock said tensely. He dragged her from the road, ignored how her steps floundered as she struggled to hang on to him, hang on  _ for _ him. “Ain’t far now, ain’t far.” Hancock kept repeating as they moved. 

It was more of a cabin than a house, windows boarded over and porch sagging badly in the middle; but there wasn’t any fungus growing on it and if something or someone  _ had _ been in it, they would’ve been in a firefight much earlier. Hancock booted the door open and dragged her, still gasping, inside. It was dark and musty, and there was a pile of bones in the corner, but the one Rad-roach he spotted was about as dead as the bones, crunching as Hancock kicked it out of their way. He dropped her, a little ungracefully, onto the grimy armchair and pulled her pack off.

The second the extra weight was gone and she felt something underneath her bottom, Yvette bent double, head between her knees, fighting for air. “Hang on, beautiful, hang on for me.” she heard to her right. Yvette nodded, not knowing if Hancock had seen the move or not.

He hadn’t; Hancock had gone to one knee, shrugging out of his pack and ripping it open to get at the chem stash. “Gonna give you a one-two, beautiful.” He said, pulling out the Jet and and Med-X. It’d knock her the hell out but that was what she needed; to get out from under being overwhelmed. “Gonna sit you up and when I tuck this into those pretty lips, need you to act like it’s me.” He couldn’t resist the joke as he helped her sit up. 

“You are  _ terrible _ .” Yvette managed to gasp out, hands over her heart to massage it, to try and break up the weight that wasn’t letting her breathe.

“That’s me.” Hancock murmured as he drove the needle home fast, fighting the tension in her shoulders to get it in without breaking it off. Wouldn’t have been his first place to shoot, not when she was tight, but there wasn’t time to try and get a softer spot when she said she couldn’t breathe. He slotted the inhaler in her mouth. “Just let it in, that’s all you gotta do.” Hancock counted to three and then depressed the inhaler, watching her lips fasten around it and her head tip back to take the hit in. “That’s it, that’s my beautiful.” He murmured, watching her face slacken and her pupils blow out; it was a little eerie, watching that sweet Atomic Blue ™ disappear under the black, but at least it meant she was stoned off her ass. She’d fall asleep, and by the time she woke up, Yvette would be at least able to breathe. 

Once she went slack, tipping in the seat, Hancock picked her up and set her on the couch--gently, this time--and went to work. He pulled off her boots and her pants, the chest armor and guards, and draped his coat over her. Even in her heavily drugged sleep, she grabbed for it, hugging it up to her face. Hancock sighed in relief; push the bookcase in front of the door, rig up the shotgun and a tripwire pointing at it, get some coffee going on the Sterno, and this would be a pretty decent place to bed down for a night. They could sit up and talk, wait for sunrise, then head out and bunk down for real at a settlement. Hancock couldn’t remember which settlement was the closest, but they’d manage.

Yvette woke up dazed, snuffing at the heavy coffee smell in the air. She groaned, sitting up slowly and finding Hancock’s coat in her lap. There was another tear on the back; she would need to mend that when they got back to Goodneighbor.

“Welcome back, beautiful.” Hancock said, getting up out of the armchair with some effort--it was a little low--and going to the counter to grab some coffee for her. He brought two cups over, and perched on the edge of the cushion, next to her thighs, to offer it. “No Bombs left.” he said apologetically.

Yvette took the cup slowly, holding it in both hands, just breathing in the smell of it before blowing across and taking a small sip. “Thank you.” she said softly.

Hancock nodded, blowing across the top of his own coffee--a habit he had not yet realized he’d picked up off of her--and taking a sip. “Breathin’ easier now, beautiful?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Even the toughest broad in the world’s gotta lose her shit sometimes. Makes ya human.” Hancock said. 

“This is one of those moments I sometimes regret to be any kind of human.” Yvette admitted. She took another sip. The pounding in her head slacked off a little; she felt sore and beat-to-hell. “I feel as though perhaps I have made a grave mistake,  _ Jean;  _ that there must be another way, only I am not smart enough to see it.” Yvette confessed.

“I got my usual if you want some, but I don’t think it’d make anything better.” Hancock replied. He nudged her legs. “Lemme under, I’m about to fall off here.”

Yvette loosed a little mirthful noise, pulling her legs up so Hancock could get his back against the back of the couch. She stretched them out again across his lap. “Too much man.”

“You’ve never complained.” Hancock replied with a slight grin, running a hand up and down her shins. “Maybe I should start calling you ‘Legs’.” he teased.

“I like that you call me ‘Beautiful’.” Yvette replied. “It does not feel empty, when you say it.”

“Well that’s cuz it’s not.” Hancock took another sip of coffee. “You wanna talk about it? Or not talk about it now?”

She sighed over the coffee. “What can we have left to say? This  _ is _ better for him. It hurts me, but it is better for him, and that is what has to be most important…” Yvette sighed again.

“Yeah, but what’s that thing you told me? Ya can’t deny feeling what you feel, because it’ll only get worse until you wind up taking it out on people?” Hancock pointed out, taking a deeper drink. It was still a little too warm, numbing his tongue and giving his throat a little scalding tickle on the way down; he didn’t want it to come off like he was throwing her words back in her face, not when he meant them like she meant them.

“I cannot describe all I am feeling though.” Yvette replied. “So much guilt, but also…a little relief? Then more guilt. Then other things I am not sure I know the words for.”

“That  _ ain’t  _ a bad thing, beautiful.” Hancock said firmly. “You feel guilty real easy sometimes, you know that? And of  _ course _ you’re gonna be glad he’s gonna be safe, that was the whole goddamn point. Feeling guilty about feeling good he’ll be ok…I dunno how to explain that unless it’s some old world thing I just don’t get.” he flashed her a grin. “That’s what I chalk up a lot of your quirks to.”

Yvette shook her head, taking another sip of coffee. “Will…will you miss him too? A little, maybe?” she asked.

Hancock blinked; she looked so vulnerable in the dim room--they were gonna have to light a candle or kick the Pip-Boy on before too long, with the sun finished going down behind the boards--and she was asking him a question he’d been wondering himself since Yvette had come at him with this plan.

“Well…beautiful…” he began slowly. “I can’t say that it was bad times, the three of us together. Don’t think I’d be that great as a dad, but there was something kinda cozy that a guy could get dangerously used to.” Hancock didn’t know if that would make sense to her; it barely made sense to him. The kid had been alright, curious about everything and easy enough to talk to--he hadn’t really gotten involved too deep with the parenting thing. Just sat around joking, or giving him a hand here or there with the tinkering stuff the kid had liked to do. Hancock had mostly--in his own mind--just hung back and watched the two of them together. Not feeling quite like an outsider to it? But not feeling whatever that crazy hook was that Yvette had going, that made her so damn tough and so damn sweet. 

Yvette, on the other hand, would have said--and did say--he was a sweet step-father. Attentive, helpful,  _ present _ . That was the most important thing, he had been  _ present _ this whole time. The three of them ate together like a family, watched the stars like a family; Hancock had even taken Shaun aside to start teaching him how to use a gun, because Molerats were starting to burrow too close by and Shaun spent a lot of time helping in the grow-yard. She took another sip. “Did you? Start to get used to it?”

Clearly this was something she wasn’t going to drop until he gave a straight answer. She got like that sometimes. Hancock finished his coffee, setting the cup off to the side, both hands back on her legs. “You know what? I did. If you’re asking if I’m gonna miss the back and forth…well that’s a no. But if you’re asking if I’m gonna miss those nights when we’d all bunk down together, him asking you shit and you talking and me just gettin’ to listen to you purr? Yeah. I’m gonna miss that, beautiful.” he said baldly.

Yvette smiled softly. “Not winding up your baby clock, am I?”

Hancock laughed. “Beautiful, I love you, but I really don’t think I’m the kinda guy who should parent. I’m more like…the really cool uncle who sneaks you beer and skin mags.”

Yvette slopped coffee down her front laughing; she laughed long and hard with her whole body, until her stomach hurt all over again. 

Hancock reached out to take the coffee away from her and hold it away so she didn’t dump the rest of it on herself. It wasn’t a hysterical laugh, all high and shaky; it was her bouncing, horsey, rough laugh. Maybe she was feeling just a little bit better. He hoped so.

Yvette wiped her eyes. “You know, I said the same thing for myself almost. The cool aunt who would give you cigarettes and never tell your parents your secrets.”

“I could see it.” Hancock said with a grin. “You got that wild streak that suits me so good.”

Yvette tipped her head back, fanning her face. “ _ Martin _ wanted more children. And we probably would have had more, because that is what happens when latex is rationed but you are full of desire.” she said.

“Would you have wanted more? I mean…well you know what I mean.” Hancock finished her coffee too, so he could get the cup out of his hand and turn a little more to focus on her.

“Honestly?” Yvette’s mouth twisted. “Shaun was very, very hard to have. Sick almost all day, every day, from the time my belly popped all the way to the hospital to have him. I spent  _ three days _ in labor with him--with very few drugs.”

Hancock winced. “How in the  _ fuck _ ?”

“Because things were very rationed, and the labor had come so fast that I was in a little hospital that was already not important enough to get big rations…and  _ Martin’s  _ mother was there.” Her mouth twisted up.

“Man…kinda hate her, and she’s been dead like 200 years.” Hancock replied.

Yvette nodded. “It was  _ a mess _ . My aunt is there holding one hand and trying to get me medicine, and  _ Martin’s  _ mother is holding my other hand and telling me it is God’s will and this is my penance for my wildness and my duty as a wife and mother to endure and blah-blah-blah.”

“And where the hell was Marty during this shit?” Hancock demanded. 

“In the waiting room with the men--a delivery room is not the place for a man who is not the doctor.” Yvette said sarcastically. “Three days, and the pain is like a wheel. Over and over and over, and because it is like this, I cannot eat, and I am about to break my teeth on ice with these two fighting over me--I mean literally my aunt is about to come across the bed to slap Angela and Angela is preaching to me and I am just there like ‘yes please kill me now’.” she snorted. “By the third day, they decided perhaps there is something wrong, and I should go into surgery, to have Shaun removed from me instead of pushing him out.”

Hancock winced.

“I say I will not go, I will cross my ankles and hold this baby in until we are both dead unless someone brings me my husband before they go to take me to surgery.” Yvette rested her head against the back of the couch, drawing her knees up so she could wiggle her feet under Hancock’s thighs and tuck her cold toes underneath. 

Hancock turned, wrapping his arms around her knees and resting his chin on top. “That’s my girl.” he grinned.

Yvette smiled softly. “They brought him in as his mother and my aunt were about to start their bad fighting again, and he threw them out. Pushed them out the door and wrapped me up in a hug. He says ‘it will be alright, I will not leave you’; tells the nurse to go and find him scrubs because he is  _ going _ in with me.”

“Poor nurse, did they even  _ make _ doctor clothes in size huge?” Hancock snorted.

Yvette laughed. “Before she has time to go try to find,  _ whoosh _ . Broken water, and finally the pain means something is actually happening.” she ran a nail along the fabric, tracing a line of embroidery still desperately clinging on. “He helps me to push, arm around me, doing everything but climbing into the bed to have Shaun for me. And then we have him. So little, so messy, screaming. But we have him.” Yvette trailed off.

Hancock kissed her knees, resting his cheek against them after and hugging her legs. He wasn’t sure yet if this was a bad conversation or just a conversation.

“All the books say the moment you have that baby in your arms, you forget how much it hurt. You fall in love.” Yvette explained. “And I did fall in love with him; with this little tiny thing that screamed and squirmed and kicked at life. But I did not forget how much it hurt. I did not feel a blissful rush. I loved him, but I did not want to do it again right after.” 

Her voice had gone low, like it did when she was sharing something she thought he might not want to hear. Hancock raised his head, looking at her. “Beautiful? I ain’t gonna fault you for it. You  _ know _ me, you know I think the world of ya. You know I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to do that shit again, it sounds like the fucking worst.” he said gently. “I got it; you’ve always been a gal ahead of the bullshit. Too good to just sit back and  _ let _ shit happen, unless it was shit you wanted to have happen anyway.”

Yvette sat up a little. “And that does not disappoint you?”

“Nah. Why would it?” he asked. “This some more of that old world shit?”

She nodded. “Even a bad girl is supposed to become a neat little housewife once she has a baby, and she will want more babies to raise and keep her house full, don’t you know?”

“No, I don’t.” Hancock said frankly. “Still the dumbest shit I hear in a day, when you gimme these little history lessons.”

“They are not ones you would read in the books, that is for sure.” Yvette snorted. “I have wanted to be a good mother, because I did have a good mother. Good  _ mothers _ \-- _ ma _ _ maman,  _ my aunt…my landlady, who introduced me to the corners of the city where you could escape the rules for a little while. My traumatic psychology professor who mentored me and helped me start to be the kind of therapist I wanted to be--a helpful one, an understanding one. You know?”

Hancock nodded. “Makes sense. Sound like a lot of good ladies I’m kinda sad to miss out on--but there’s still you.” he said softly.

Yvette smiled. “Yes, there is still me. And if I have to be a mother, I would want to be a good one. But I…I was not one of the little girls who  _ planned _ to be a mother, you know?”

“But then you were, so you’re gonna do the best damn job you could.” he summarised.

Yvette nodded. “ _ Exactement _ .”

“Marty though…he kinda wanted more, I bet.” Hancock said tentatively.

She nodded again. “Oh yes, much more. He had brothers, and was insistent that it would be good for Shaun to have siblings. I was not so sure, as I am the only daughter and I think I grew to be just fine.” Yvette shrugged. “It was not yet a discussion because Shaun was still very small, and we were settling into Sanctuary, and I was preparing to go to work and he was preparing to be the house-husband.” She sighed. “Who knows? I told myself very long ago to stop wondering what my life would be ‘if only’. My life is here, and now, and I will have to live it  _ here _ .”

Hancock nodded. “There you go, bein’ so goddamn smart again.” he kissed her knees again. “But with all that being said, lemme ask ya: you ok with Goodneighbor bein’ our home base, at least for now?”

She nodded. “I do. I like it. How can I not? Handsome husband, sturdy bed, friends, a cabaret across the street? Minus the radiation and the broken buildings, it is exactly the kind of life I had always wanted to have for myself.”

Hancock grinned. “Husband, huh?”

“Or wife. You know me.” she smiled.

He laughed. “Yeah, I know you. And I love you. And you know when I don’t agree with ya, because we don’t hold back like that.”

Yvette took a deep breath, and sighed. Then she nodded. “It still hurts,  _ Jean _ . It will for some time. Maybe I should not have left  _ Martin’s _ tags with him? But…it seemed right to do.”

“You got a good gut, beautiful. And when it hurts, you just throw yourself at me. I’ll catch ya.” Hancock sat back and slid his hands between her knees to press her legs apart so he could lean in and kiss her on the mouth. She let him, which was a good sign.

Yvette wrapped her arms around him and kissed him soft and easy. 

“You want another hit? To get some sleep on?” Hancock asked softly, pressing his forehead to hers. He felt the air above his lip warm and cool and warm and cool with her breathing. 

“ _ Non _ , I hate to walk hungover.” she said. “I think as long as you are close, I will manage some.”

Hancock nodded a little. “Can’t get rid of me, I’m hooked.” he said, kissing her again.

“ _ Moi aussi _ .” she whispered back.

Hancock shivered. It wasn’t the right time right there and then, but once they got back to Goodneighbor…he was gonna get another month in.

**Author's Note:**

> After writing "The End, and Yet Not" I was really stuck on what would my (f)Sole's solution to the whole 'eternal child' thing. I think I managed to come up with a pretty good, in-character answer. And of course Hancock's right there because where else is he gonna be lol
> 
> This one was so long, I swear it got away from me for like ten pages - -"


End file.
